


Drabbles: SSHG Discord Server

by Francis_SinBin



Series: Drabbles [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Light Bondage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:56:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27646490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Francis_SinBin/pseuds/Francis_SinBin
Summary: Drabbles will be a mix of NSFW and SFW. Any warnings I'll list in the chapter summaries. Some drabbles may become larger works. The Prompts will be the chapter titles.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Series: Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021480
Kudos: 18





	1. Provoke

Hermione deflates as Severus leaves the aisle of bookshelves where they had been conversing in the library about alternatives uses for thistle. Another seduction attempt thwarted. He hadn't reacted to any of her openings or attempts at flirtation she had snuck between observations and discussion. She was only temporarily filling in for charms until a more permanent professor could be found after Filius had needed to suddenly retire for his health. This was just a favor. Her time here was limited and with it's end she'd lose the best opportunity she's been given to be around him. She reluctantly puts it from her mind to finish her day and doesn't think of it again until days later when she's assisting him in greenhouse eleven. 

There's a fine layer of sweat on her skin and dirt under her nails. Her hair was a mess and tangle of curls hastily pulled back as the humidity in the greenhouse made her hair get more out of hand. She sighs as she leans her lower back against one of the potting tables with her legs stretched out in front of her, the soles of her shoes digging into the soil to keep her from falling on her arse. Her fingers pinch at her shirt and pull at the fabric in a slight fanning motion; this particular greenhouse housed plants too delicate for magic. Her lips part to release another sigh, more quiet, before wetting her lips. She hears a rough groan of frustration. So, low she could have misheard. But she can't mistake the feeling of hands sliding up her thighs or the body suddenly in her personal space.


	2. Whisper

It starts with an eagerly raised hand, slightly waving and flapping in impatience. The girl is too eager to prove herself. She's hungry in her desire to show she's just as good as any of the other students in his class. He tries to tear down that habit. He knows where it leads, isolation and derision. 

It continues with raised hands but no more impatience or blurting out answers before being called. There are pockets of derision around her but she has a small group of acceptance around her, who depend on her to pull them through their own muddled brains with their tepid, uninspiring thoughts. 

It changes to quiet eyes and hard expressions. No longer an annoying child or an eager teen, but a confident and stern woman. One who sits next to him at the head table, who looks fondly over the first years and gives an uncompromising stare to the upper years who immediately listen to the silent command to behave. She's grown during a war and came out respected. No hint of the derision that was thrown towards her for her blood or her eagerness. Their eyes meet and he subtly raises his goblet before he drinks down the liquid that both burns and soothes his ruined throat. 

It ends every night after with a gasp of his name and a ragged whisper of hers coming from his lips as they move in the tangled sheets of her bed that keep them pressed close together as they shift against each other to find comfort in this lonely place after the war.


	3. Sopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I took it as a personal challenge to not only include sopping, but also squelching and moist. 
> 
> This one switches character POVs back and forth. Includes: (light) bondage

She bites her bottom lip, sucking it lightly as she tilts her head and walks in a slow circle. Her attention is focused solely on the occupant in the chair. His wrists and ankles bond to the chair with cuffs that would only release at the touch of her wand to them. It's a show of trust and vulnerability she never wants to betray. She's only all too aware of how he's been used and bond to others. At least with her he chooses to be bound. Hermione comes full circle to stand in front of him. "I think we'll start hear first, sir."

The quirk of her lips as she purrs the word makes him ache to lean forward to bite them until they turn that bright shade of red he secretly adores. But he stays still and tries to relax his hands from their grip on the chair. This wasn't what he had in mind when Hermione had transfigured a mirror copy of his office chair out of one of their pillows. It had been a thoughtful substitute to being bound on or to their bed. 

Her forefinger reaches forward to slide down alongside the numerous buttons of his shirt, they pop one by one after her finger passes next to them. Then, the shirt is spread up to bare his chest to her eyes. She places her hands on each side of his collarbone and curls her fingers to drag her nails down, one more careful than the other to not catch on the raised scar tissue on one side the follows his veins. Testament to his strength to survive something most wouldn't have, his intelligence and self-preservation that gave him the foresight to be prepared for the worst outcome. 

Severus bares his teeth slightly as nails drag harsh lines down his chest. Red streaks are left behind in their wake and his chest presses upwards into the biting pain. A rough gasp that's barely more than a whisper is torn from him as nails pass on either side of his nipples. He clenches his teeth together to stop any further noise from escaping him. Her hands come to rest on the waistband of his trousers. His chest feels slightly aflame from her scratches. It's a pain that makes him feel as if he needs to rub over the red lines to soothe them. 

As she opens his trousers she goes to her knees and leans towards him to let her mouthe over a few of the raised welts on his sides. She lips her hand inside his trousers to work his erection free. Only then, does she pull back to sit on the heels of her feet. Hermione spends her time taking in the picture he makes with his shirt open and his erection standing up from his trousers and pants. Pre-cum wells up at the tip and he lets her mouth hover close to the tip, so he can feel her moist breath before she dips her head down to mouthe over his shaft instead of sucking the tip into her mouth. 

His nostrils flare as he grinds his teeth together for a moment. He lets his head fall back to the headrest of his chair as he closes his eyes. Briefly he entertains the thought of praying to Hecate for the patience and fortitude to get through this without begging or without trying to levitate Hermione's wand from the dresser to make it touch the bands of metal holding him prisoner, so he can grip her by her hair and make her pretty mouth wrap around him properly. A slight sound catches his notice and makes his eyes squint open to stare at the ceiling of their room as he tries to place it. The next sound is much louder. A gravely groan builds from deep in his chest as he recognizes the familiar squelching of sound of fingers thrusting deep into her. 

Hermione gives a slow grin when she sees that Severus has finally heard her as she sinks two fingers into her body. They move quick and curl slightly on the pull out as she rolls her hips down into them. It's a deserving punishment for looking away; not having any warning as she slipped her skirt up and pushed her panties aside to tease her labia before pushing forward once her fingers are slick enough. But now he's looking at her. He stares down at her with an intense hunger that makes her want to climb into his lap to fill her body with more than just slim fingers. 

His hips flex forward to try to get her mouth to move from where it was licking his frenulum to take the head into the warmth of her mouth since he's being denied the warmth between her legs. He breathes harder now and forces himself to take deep inhales as the smell of her arousal starts to become apparent. Her eyes are glazed as her body moves into her hand. Soon her mouth is no longer licking or sucking, but is parted as she pants and moans low and soft; sounding sweet and tempting ruin. Their eyes stay locked on each other as he hears and watches her reaching her peak. He's throbbing and twitching between his legs with her so close and untouchable. 

Hermione's eyes clench shut as she shudders through her orgasm, no noise leaving her lips from the force of it. It's a surprising intensity for just her fingers and she attributes teasing Severus to the true reason she finished as hard as she did. She rests her cheek against is clothed sigh and just breathes as she waits for her body to calm down to something more reasonable. "Please," the harsh whisper makes her glance up at Severus and the plead is enough to pull her fingers out from her still spasming clench of muscles. Her legs tremble as she forces them to hold her weight.

Severus watches her in anticipation as she stands and feels smug at the visible shake of her legs, the hem of her skirt still tucked into the waistband of it. The cotton underwear she favors is nearly sheer with her fluids; he notices it as she braces one knee beside his thigh and the hand that had stayed dry cups the side of his neck over the ugly scar tissue. Her fingers lift to his lips and they're sopping wet, dripping down onto his chest as he meets her eyes. "Have a taste while you can- I'm not finished with you, yet, Severus." Hermione's voice is breathless with arousal and he has the pleasure of hearing her breath hitch as he opens his mouth to curl his tongue around the offered fingers to give them a long, leisurely suck.


	4. Rosemary

He stands up straighter, his chin raising up from where his face has been tilted down out of habit for his hair to hide his face from view despite it being pulled back into a braid. It had been something Mrs. Granger had insisted on. Potter stands stiffly next to him. They may still butt heads but they've agreed to keep any ribbing and banter to a minimum. The guests -a small assortment of past students, colleagues, and surprisingly a few Weasleys- turn in their seats to look down the aisle as soft music begins to play from Filius's enchanted instruments. 

Already he can feel himself beginning to sweat, can feel his pulse thrum in panic as he forces his breathing to stay even. Years of being a spy under the Dark Lord's gaze keeps him from cracking and running. He reminds himself it's necessary. It's the only way to keep her tied to him, to bind her legally and magically to him. The glint of the ring Potter bears upon a pillow a threatening, mocking glare to all his insecurities. Severus should have put it into a box for Potter to hold instead. Hidden from sight until he'd need to place it onto her finger. 

Hermione's dress is a formless slip of white, the natural curves of her body accentuating the fabric to give it shape. The veil hangs to the ground behind her head, nearly skimming the runner that had been put on the ground to lead to the raised platform. She's beautiful with a crown of rosemary to match the sprig in the lapel of his coat. He should be focusing on her and yet all he can think to do is run from the bondage he's going to be placed into. Her lips pull into a smile as she nears him, growing wider with every step. It helps to know this will make her happy if this is how she looks before any vows or contracts are sealed. 

He extends a hand to take her from her father and she steps beside him onto the platform as her father moves to sit beside her mother. No tears shed by Hermione or Mr. and Mrs. Granger like he remembers seeing in films or reading in those cheesy romance novels as he sat next to Lily and tried to see the appeal of those books. The officiant begins and the words are muffled, as if there is cotton in his ears. He only becomes aware of his part when he sees Potter move out of the corner of his eye. His fingers reluctantly pluck the ring from its resting place. Dutifully, he says, "I do," when prompted. The injury to his neck gives him reason to not have to say anything else as a part of his vows. Though, he doubts anyone in attendance would have expected him to- even without his injury. 

Severus immediately notices when Hermione's eyes grow soft and her smile sad. The sudden change makes his brow furrow as he tries to parse through his words and actions to see what could have possibly been done wrong. His mind races to think of what went wrong. He knows what she's going to say before he even hears it. 

"No," The purse of her lips is familiar as she speaks that word, as she rejects him. 

His face closes off immediately as his eyes become hard and blank. The occlumency shields he's employed so sparingly since his courtship with her come slamming down to control himself in front of those who are not meant to be privy to the pain that word causes him. Except, he's sure he isn't quick enough to stop the heat of anger and embarrassment from splotching his cheeks a ruddy red; the only outward sign visible to their whispering and muttering guests, a few choice voices beginning to raise in volume. 

"I cannot do this to you, Severus. You've been bound to two masters before. I will not be a third that you feel you must be subservient to in an attempt to keep me appeased to have me by your side." She draws close to reach up with petite hands, covered in healed over paper cuts and small slices from helping him brew, to cup either side of his face gently. 

"I'll be your wife in only name. No laws and no magical binding to intertwine us. I want you to know every day that I wake up beside you and every night I go to sleep, that every kiss and touch is because I want to be with you- that I choose you. That we choose to stay with each other every second and every day and every year to be together. That every fight and argument is not enough to stop my love for you. That nothing is making us be together besides our love for each other and our choice." Hermione gently pulls him to bend down at the waist, not demanding, and he goes. "You've had your autonomy withheld for far too long and I refuse to take it again when you finally have it." Her chin tilts up as she slots her lips to his with confidence and surety. He cannot help but meet them just as firmly as he wraps his arms tight around her back to hold her flush to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I see pureblood weddings as being something that magically binds people and acts like an anchor for them. Hence, why some families worry so much about arranging marriages and who you marry. Or at least that was the original intention and racist purebloods have twisted it to fit their needs. Like most people do in general, tbh. 
> 
> But over the years more muggle influenced weddings have started to come around. And this is basically a mix of traditional and modern because despite Snape being a half-blood I see him as being more traditional in some ways; I mean more traditional as in being pagan than the more conservative pureblood stuff JKR has given us as canon. Which I pick and choose from anyway. 
> 
> I also, personally, cannot see a canon Snape being able to go through with any marriage without down anxiety and insecurity. A young Snape just out of Hogwarts or an AU Snape, sure. But not for canon. 
> 
> Just some background headcanon info to explain stuff! ❤️


	5. Slip

Severus stares upwards from his prone position, breathing heavy and quick from the sudden drop in the middle of an otherwise pleasurable activity. Less than a moment later Hermione is looking over the edge before carefully maneuvering to stand and step over him. She kneels beside him, hovering in concern since he hasn't moved to pick himself up.

"Are you alright, dear- that was a bit of fall, wasn't it? Do you need help up?" Her hands stroke over his hair, his face, and neck. She's fretting since she can't tell what's wrong. 

"My.hip." He forces the words out and does his best to not move because even still he can feel pain radiating from it. Her eyes finally look down instead of around his head or his neck. The sight can't be much too look at with how her face puckers. His eyes close in resignation of what's coming. 

"Madame Pomfrey?" He glares at her questioning tone. 

"Madame Pomfrey, then." She nods to herself and stands to grab her discarded dressing gown. If he didn't have the sheet tangled around his legs he may have fussed about being covered up to preserver some dignity. But what dignity was there left when he has likely broke his hip because he slipped on some silk sheets. Silk sheets that Hermione had insisted on because she has always wanted them. He had looked at them dubiously but ultimately he wasn't about to fuss over sheets. Not when she was laid out bare on them with a hand between her legs.


End file.
